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maskormenace2016-10-06 01:01 am
danceofcurse) wrote in maskormenace2016-10-06 01:01 am
003 ⚔ Video
[When the broadcast begins, the center of attention is a young man's gloved hands and the toy figure they hold, approximately thirteen centimeters tall and brushed with shining metallic white paint. Protruding from large armored shoulders embedded with green gems is a leathery-looking vinyl cape that hangs low enough to reach adjustable feet. When pressed, a switch resting behind a horned helmet triggers movement of the arms: a rigid up-and-down chopping motion.]
I was alright with building these things when I first got here, but now that they've started to model them after Escaflowne...
[To say Van sounds exasperated is an understatement, but even so, he doesn't appear to be in any hurry to dispose of the figure. Rather than treat it with any sort of disrespect, the toy is set aside in favor of collecting the phone, the camera positioned in his hands to capture his disapproving frown, no doubt expected by those who have come to know him.]
What I'm trying to say is that I'm looking for new work. I'm good with a bow and arrow, better with a sword, and if there are people who want to learn or need protecting...
[He doesn't feel good about suggesting they pay him for any of that, but he can't very well live off the generosity of others, now can he? And he's not happy at present doing something he feels serves no greater purpose. This is really the only option he has.]
I'm also looking for an armorer. And someone who knows their way around large... [He pauses, clearly searching for the right word, his face screwing up with concentration before, albeit with obvious dissatisfaction, he settles upon the only commonly accepted descriptor he knows.] ...large robots.
Mine needs some repairs. Potentially some improvements.
[That's it. As abruptly as his broadcast began, it ends.]
I was alright with building these things when I first got here, but now that they've started to model them after Escaflowne...
[To say Van sounds exasperated is an understatement, but even so, he doesn't appear to be in any hurry to dispose of the figure. Rather than treat it with any sort of disrespect, the toy is set aside in favor of collecting the phone, the camera positioned in his hands to capture his disapproving frown, no doubt expected by those who have come to know him.]
What I'm trying to say is that I'm looking for new work. I'm good with a bow and arrow, better with a sword, and if there are people who want to learn or need protecting...
[He doesn't feel good about suggesting they pay him for any of that, but he can't very well live off the generosity of others, now can he? And he's not happy at present doing something he feels serves no greater purpose. This is really the only option he has.]
I'm also looking for an armorer. And someone who knows their way around large... [He pauses, clearly searching for the right word, his face screwing up with concentration before, albeit with obvious dissatisfaction, he settles upon the only commonly accepted descriptor he knows.] ...large robots.
Mine needs some repairs. Potentially some improvements.
[That's it. As abruptly as his broadcast began, it ends.]
‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚
(▰˘◡˘▰)
〳 ͡° Ĺ̯ ͡° 〵
Fine. When do you want to begin?
(☞ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞
Whenever you've got time, man. I'm pretty fucking open for whenever.
(눈_ლ)
(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
（￣へ￣）
（ ´∀｀）☆
Action
As is his custom, he rises early the following day and makes his way to Nonah and its training center. The sun has just barely begun to rise, but as he ventures inside, there isn't any sign yet of his pupil.
Not that he has the faintest idea what Hazel looks like, but he's certain anyone with a personality like hers will stand out. And yet...no one does. As the hour grows later, one bleeding into the next, and as he decides to pass the time by practicing on his own, people come and go but none of them appear to be whom Van is waiting for. They barely make eye contact with him before giving him a wide berth, some going so far as to mutter under the breath where they think he won't hear, Talk about moody!
Well, they'd be moody too if they were waiting from sunrise to...what time is it even? Van checks the nearest clock on the wall and his grip on his wooden practice sword tightens. After ten o'clock!
That Hazel...she's probably off someplace laughing right now. But the joke's on her, he thinks to himself. He intended to come here today anyway. Needed to spend time practicing before he met with Gregor and whoever would be overseeing his combat demonstration...]
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more topically, how could she possibly pull herself away after that? the appointment had been wiped clear from her mind thanks to the deluge of shock, and by the time she'd managed to scrounge up some sort of recollection Hazel was already trapped in the adorably insistent vice grip of a sleeping Josuke. if Van had been a little nicer he might have elicited some sort of guilty twinge from her, but the end result was still the same; the entire city could be on fire and she probably would have stayed exactly where she was.
eventually Sleeping Beauty rousts himself from his eternal slumber, allowing her to navigate the usual morning whining and teasing and hop on the bullet train over to Nonah. she probably could have made an effort to move a little more quickly, but Hazel honestly didn't see the point. it was already three hours past the meet time - what the hell was twenty minutes more going to do?
she'd even been thoughtful enough to wear her workout top, even though she was physically incapable of actually working out. clearly she was blameless here.
as she walks into the training center, though, the unspoken tension in the room is forceful enough that even she can taste it. it's pretty easy to pick out the cause of it, considering the strange ghost town Van's created in his near radius. the whole thing prompts Hazel to tap a passerby on the shoulder and jerk a thumb in Van's direction before inquiring after him.]
So, what, did he turn half the floor into a bomb or is he just contagious?
[yep. blameless.]
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At first he doesn't appear to think much of the scene. That or he's trying very hard not to think anything due to Hazel's appearance. But after a moment, long enough perhaps to realize he was the one the two girls were talking about, he decides he's had enough of people staring.
Tugging his towel off a nearby bench, he starts in Hazel's direction, one hand dabbing at the beaded sweat that's collected at the edge of his hairline, the other still clutching his wooden practice sword in a vice-like grip.]
I'm waiting for someone. Now that you know, you can mind your own business. Unless you're Hazel?
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Pick one or the other, man, I can't do both.
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If Van were a cat, he'd be bristling.]
I guess you weren't all that interested in learning anything about sword fighting after all! I should have known.
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[you want audacity? try this one on for size - she even says it with a completely straight face, just the right touch of affrontment curling along the edges of her expression.]
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[Presuming to know the truth aleady, Van turns away from Hazel before she can respond and starts back toward the space he'd claimed earlier for himself, an area of the floor still very much avoided by the other people sharing the training hall with them.]
Go on, go back to wherever city it is you came from. You've had your laugh.
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It's before dawn in California right now, you dipshit. Fucking sorry for getting my old timezone confused with the one here.
[she could have just said she was celebrating her anniversary with her amazing wonderful gorgeous boyfriend, but no. that's embarrassing. better make up something instead.]
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[Van's soft soled leather boots barely whisper across the floor of the training hall, but as he comes to a stop there is an audible sort of silence in the absence of his footsteps. He glances back at Hazel, his gaze as scrutinizing as it is disbelieving, but whether or not he buys her story—and he doesn't, not by a long shot—he tosses her his wooden sword.]
We're wasting time, let's get started.
[She's still here, after all, and it doesn't look as though she has any intention of leaving. Even if he doesn't like her very much, he may as well teach her a thing or two so that maybe, if she bothers to pay attention, she'll wind up needing a few less stitches in the future.]
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[she manages to catch the sword without dropping it, thank god. it's hard to talk shit when you're fumbling with dumb wooden broom handles or whatever this actually was.
she rests it over her shoulder casually. Hazel knows better than to try and take any kind of stance with how cranky this guy is; he'd probably correct her before she could even start, so there's no point in bothering at all. he'll badger her into whatever he thinks is 'proper'.]
But whatever, let's go. Maybe you can give me a concussion too.
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[With a roll of both shoulders and eyes, Van leaves her for a moment to collect from a rack of practice equipment another sword identical to the one he'd tossed at Hazel. No longer than a short sword and resembling a Roman gladius, meant to be wielded with one hand instead of two, it is made entirely of wood with a steel center to mimic the correct weight and balance of a real blade. It can't cut, but it can bruise and bludgeon, and if neither of them are careful, it can probably crack skulls, too.
Van won't let it come to that, of course.
Coming back towards Hazel and to a stop some five paces away, he studies the way she's standing before shaking his head. The only thing she has going for her is that she's not tense, but everything else about her stance leaves her open to being disarmed or dismembered.]
What do you already know about sword fighting?
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I know if you use two hands you can get the fucking thing straight through a person's chest. Aaaand that's about it.
[this is incredibly mean because the person who got a sword through the chest was Hazel herself, intentionally whilst fighting Pan, but there's nothing but amusement sparkling in her eyes. it's always fun to secretly knock herself down.]
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I think you know a lot more than you'd like to admit.
[He's certainly not expecting her to be an expert, not coming to him for help, but most beginners tend to know more than they give themselves credit for.]
A sword isn't only a weapon. While it can be used to take a life, it can also be used to protect...and a truly skilled swordsman can win a battle without ever needing to draw his blade. [Not that Van has mastered that skill himself, so moving right along.] To start with, let's focus on why you said you needed help. You want to protect yourself, right? Your current stance leaves you too open, so let's try something else.
Do as I do.
[He spreads his feet a shoulder width apart, his right foot leading and his sword held delicately in his right hand before him.]
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[she swings the practice sword easily off her shoulder to point it in Van's general direction, and while the words are clearly not meant to be taken seriously there's something in her eyes that prevents doing so.
there is no room in Hazel's life for self-preservation. she steals so much from this damned existence, but even so she can't find the slightest justification for caring about what happens to herself. she would always survive, and whatever came before that she deserves. even when she moved to ward off harm, it was for the sake of others. the sight of Josuke's bleeding hand was impossible to forget.
point now made, she finally moves to obey his words. the stance is easy enough to copy, and she settles in with little trouble. probably the most progress they'd make today.]
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[Hazel's eyes are full of conviction even if her voice rings of self-directed apathy, but Van sees something else there, too. Something that reminds him a little of himself.
Technically, he is a decent fighter, but he knows he tends towards letting his emotions rule over him. Balgus and Allen both said he didn't charge aggressively enough in combat, something that comes from his dislike of violence, but the real reason he's so easily overcome by skilled opponents is his intense focus on the enemy before him and his disregard for everything else.
He's gotten better, of course. But not without very painful sacrifices being made along the way...]
If you choose to fight recklessly with your own life on the line, you may as well be throwing the heads of those you care about on the chopping block right next to yours. You can't protect anyone if you can't protect yourself.
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god, she hates that.]
My life's never on the line. Those powers they shove down our throats when we first show up? Mine's not dying.
[it's so much more complicated than that, but the details didn't matter. she didn't die when shot. she didn't fall when dismembered. protect herself? her body would guard her through everything, no matter what she herself actually wanted.]
So there's no point in wasting either of our fucking time with that shit.
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Still...]
It's your choice if you want to use your body like a tool to fight. I won't stop you. But there's a smart way to go about that, and a stupid way.
[Sliding his foot forward, Van springs into action and, thrusting his practice sword toward's Hazel's hand, attempts to disarm her.]
What use are you to anyone if you're outmatched in skill or strength? Maybe you can't be killed, but that doesn't mean you can't be captured or cut down! Protect yourself!
(no subject)